第 25 节
作者:想聊      更新:2021-02-19 00:37      字数:9322
  can be dead in a moment。〃
  They   stood   over   the   detective;   and   Masters   and   Fred   Caunter;   with
  courage and presence of mind; carried him out into the corridor。
  The butler spoke。
  〃Run   for   the   brandy;   Fred;〃   he   said。 〃We   must   get   some   down   his
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  neck   if   we   can。  I don't   feel   the   gentleman's   heart;   but it   may  not   have
  stopped。      He's warm enough。〃
  The footman obeyed; and Hardcastle was laid upon his back。                       Then
  Sir Walter directed Masters。
  〃Hold his head up。        It may be better for him。〃
  They  waited;   and;   during   the   few   moments   before   Caunter   returned;
  Sir   Walter   spoke   again。    His   mind   wandered   backward   and   seemed   for
  the moment incapable of grasping the fact before him。
  〃Almost the last thing the man said was to ask me why ghosts haunted
  the night rather than the day。〃
  Lennox      and    Mannering      to   bring   him    news     when    the   telegram
  dispatched to Scotland Yard was answered; and prepared to leave them。
  As he rose; he marked his old spaniel standing whimpering by his side。
  〃What is the matter with Prince?〃 he asked。
  〃He has not had his dinner;〃 said Mary。
  〃Let him be fed at once;〃 answered her father; and went out alone。
  She rose to follow him immediately; but Mannering; who had stopped
  and was with them; begged her not to do so。
  〃Leave   him   to   himself;〃   he   said。   〃This   has   shaken   your   father;   as
  well it may。      He's all right。    Make him take his bromide to…night; and let
  nobody do anything to worry him。〃
  The master of Chadlands meantime went afield; walked half a mile to
  a   favorite   spot;   and   sat   down   upon   a   seat that   he   had   there   erected。 A
  storm was blowing up from the south…west; and the weather of his mind
  welcomed it。       He alternated between bewilderment and indignation。                  His
  own   life…long   philosophy  and   trust   in   the ordered   foundations   of   human
  existence   threatened   to   fail   him   entirely   before   this   second   stroke。    It
  seemed that the punctual universe was suddenly turned upside down; and
  had emptied a vial of horror upon his innocent head。
  Reality was a thing of   the past。         A nightmare   had taken its place;   a
  nightmare from which there was no waking。                 He considered the stability
  of   his   days   …   a   lifetime   followed   upon   high   principles   and   founded   on
  religious convictions that had comforted his sorrows and countenanced his
  joys。    It seemed a trial undeserved; that in his old age he should be thrust
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  upon a pinnacle of publicity; forced into the public eye; robbed of dignity;
  denied the privacy he esteemed as the most precious privilege that wealth
  could    command。       Stability   was    destroyed;     to  count   upon   the   morrow
  seemed impossible。         His thought; strung to a new morbidity; unknown till
  now;   ran   on   and   pictured;   with   painful;   vivid   stroke   upon   stroke;   the
  insufferable series of events that lay before him。
  Life was become a bizarre and brutal business for a man of fine feeling。
  He would be thrust into the pitiless mouth of sensation…mongers; called to
  appear   before   tribunals;   subjected   to   an   inquisition   of   his   fellow…men;
  made to endure a notoriety infinitely odious even in anticipation。                Indeed;
  Sir   Walter's   simple    intellect   wallowed     in  anticipation;   and   so  suffered
  much that; given exercise of restraint; he might have escaped altogether。
  He was brave enough; but personal bravery would not be called for。 He sat
  now   staring   dumbly   at   an   imaginary   series   of   events   abominable        and
  unseemly in every particular to his order of mind。 He was so concerned
  with what the future must hold in store for him that for a time the present
  quite escaped his thoughts。
  He returned to it; however; and it was almost with the shock of a new
  surprise he remembered that Peter Hardcastle; a man of European repute;
  had just died in his house。         But he could not in the least realize the new
  tragedy。     He had as yet barely grasped the truth of his son…in…law's end;
  and still often found himself expecting Tom's footfall and his jolly voice。
  That such   an   abundant   vitality  was   stilled;  that   such   an infectious   laugh
  would never sound again on mortal ear he yet sometimes found it hard to
  believe。
  But now it seemed that the impact of this second blow rammed home
  the first。   He brooded upon his dead son…in…law; and it was long before he
  returned   to   the   event   of   that   day。 A   thought   struck   him;   and   though
  elementary      enough;     it  seemed    to  Sir  Walter   an   important    conclusion。
  There could be no shadow of doubt that Tom May and Peter Hardcastle
  had died by the same secret force。          He felt that he must remember this。
  Again he puzzled; and then decided with himself that; if he meant to
  keep   sane;  he   must   practice   faith   and   trust   in  God。 Septimus   May  had
  said that such unparalleled things sometimes happened in the world to try
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  man's faith。     Doubtless he was right。
  Henceforth the old man determined to stand firmly on the side of the
  supernatural with the priest。         He went further; and blamed his scepticism。
  It had cost the world a valuable life。           He could not; indeed; be censured
  for that in any court of inquiry。         Sceptical men would doubtless say that
  he had done rightly in refusing Mr。 May his experiment。                   But Sir Walter
  now convinced himself that he had done wrongly。                   At such a time; with
  landmarks vanishing and all accepted laws of matter resolved into chaos;
  there remained only  God   to   trust。        Such   a  burden   as   this   was not   to   be
  borne by any mortal; and Sir Walter determined that he would not bear it。
  Were we not told to cast our tribulations before the Almighty? Here; if
  ever; was a situation beyond the power of human mind to approach; unless
  a   man   walked   humbly  with   his   hand   in   his   Maker's。   Septimus   May  had
  been   emphatically   right。      Sir   Walter   repeated   this   conviction   to   himself
  again and again; like a child。
  He descended to details presently。           The hidden being; that it had been
  implicitly agreed could only operate by night in the Grey Room; proved
  equally potent under noonday sun。             But why should it be otherwise?            To
  limit its activities was   to limit its powers;  and the Almighty alone knew
  what powers had been granted to it。             He shrank from further inquiries or
  investigations on any but a religious basis。             He was now convinced that
  no   natural   explanation   would   exist   for   what   had   happened   in   the   Grey
  Room;   and   he   believed   that   only   through   the   paths   of   Christian   faith
  would peace return to him or his house。
  Then the   present dropped   out   of   his   thoughts。       They  wandered   into
  the   past;   and   he   concerned   himself   with   his   wife。 She   it   was   who   had
  taught him  to   care   for   foreign   travel。   Until his   marriage   he   had   hardly
  left England; save when yachting with friends; and an occasional glimpse
  of a Mediterranean port was all that Sir Walter knew of the earth outside
  his   own   country。     But   he   remembered   with   gratitude   the   opportunities
  won   from   her。     He   had   taken   her   round   the   world;   and   found   himself
  much the richer in great memories for that experience。
  He was still thinking when Mary found him; with his old dog asleep at
  his feet。    She brought him a coat and umbrella; for the threatened storm
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  advanced   swiftly   under   clouds   laden   with   rain。   Reluctantly   enough   he
  returned   to   the   present。    A   telegram   had   been   received   from   London;
  directing Dr。 Mannering to reach the nearest telephone and communicate
  direct。    The   doctor   was   gone   to   Newton   Abbot;   and   nothing   could   be
  done until he came back。           Not knowing wha